Boondock Blues
by iheartGibbs
Summary: The NCIS team travels back to Edenvale, the boondock town from 'Suspicion'.  Written in response to the NFA 'Bubba Shot the Jukebox' Challenge : details inside.  Four chapters.  Complete.  DuckyOFC some McGeeRuby and some McGeeZiva
1. Chapter 1

**Boondock Blues**

by iheartGibbs

Written in response to the Bubba Shot the Jukebox Fanfiction Challenge (NFA)

Rating – T (PG-13)

The original challenge:

_Let's go visit Ruby again!!! Because we know how much fun the gang has in the boondocks!!!_

_Your challenge is to take the immortal words to the song "Bubba Shot The Jukebox" and convert into an NCIS tale._

_Specifics:_

_Length: At least 1500 words min to whatever your little fingers care to type max :)_

_Character requirements: Ruby must appear in a meaningful way, not just a mention. _

_Ships: Ducky/OFC – find him someone nice, sane, and NOT a criminal_

_Rating: doesn't matter as long as story is annotated_

_Slash: doesn't matter as long as story is annotated_

_Other requirements: Plot must include the scene from the song somehow, either as part of the main case or as a scene witnessed by the NCIS gang._

_**LYRICS TO BUBBA SHOT THE JUKEBOX**_

_**We were all down at Marge's bar tellin' stories if we had one**_

_**Someone fired the old jukebox up - the song, it sure was a sad one**_

_**A teardrop rolled down Bubba's nose from the pain the song was inflicting**_

_**All at once he jumped to his feet just like somebody kicked him**_

**_---_**

_**Bubba shot the jukebox last night**_

_**He said it played a sad song, made him cry**_

_**Went to his truck and got a .45**_

_**He shot the jukebox **_

_**Dropped it with one shot**_

_**Bubba shot the jukebox last night**_

**_---_**

_**Now Bubba ain't ever been accused of being mentally stable**_

_**So we did not draw an easy breath 'til he laid that Colt on the table**_

_**he hung his head 'til the cops showed up - he dragged him right out of Marge's**_

_**They told him, "Don't play dumb with us son, you now damn well what the charge is"**_

**_---_**

_**Bubba shot the jukebox last night**_

_**He said it played a sad song, made him cry**_

_**Went to his truck and got a .45**_

_**He shot the jukebox **_

_**Dropped it with one shot**_

_**Bubba shot the jukebox last night**_

**_---_**

_**When the sheriff arrived with his bathrobe on the confrontation was a tense one**_

_**He shook his head and said, "Bubba boy, you always was a dense one"**_

_**Now reckless discharge of a gun - that's what the officers are claimin'**_

_**Bubba hollered out, "reckless, hell! I hit just where I was aimin'"**_

**_---_**

_**Bubba shot the jukebox last night**_

_**He said it played a sad song, made him cry**_

_**Went to his truck and got a .45**_

_**He shot the jukebox **_

_**Dropped it with one shot**_

_**Bubba shot the jukebox last night**_

**_---_**

_**Well he could not tell right from wrong through the teardrops in his eyes**_

_**Beyond a shadow of a doubt it was a justifiable homicide**_

---

A/N: I took the title of this story from Tony's comment in the episode "Suspicion", where the team was first in the boondock town of Edenvale. Please bear in mind that throughout this story many of our small town residents will not be speaking with the structured grammar to which we have become accustomed. It's part of the character. Get over it.

---

---

**Chapter 1**

Special Agent Timothy McGee printed out the information he had been sent, began the process of powering down his computer, and starting gathering things and placing them in his bag.

"Um, what are you doing, Probie?" Tony asked him, his expression mirroring that of this coworker, Ziva David, who was peering inquisitively at McGee.

"Case," McGee answered simply.

"Grab your gear!" Gibbs shouted, making his way to his desk. "Nice hustle, McGee," he said, patting the younger man on the back as they headed toward the elevator.

"Where're we going, Boss?" Ziva asked curiously, as she and Tony fumbled to catch up.

Gibbs only smirked, nodding his head toward the younger man who had entered the elevator before him.

"Edenvale," McGee answered with a triumphant grin.

Tony's face fell. "Boondocks again? What, did Tyler Barrett get released and decide to set up more out-of-towners as terrorists making bombs in their garages?"

Gibbs turned on him, giving him a silencing stare. "No, Tony, two marines were murdered and dumped at the edge of the river," he said soberly.

Repentant, Tony winced and turned away from his boss to face the silver elevator doors.

"So, how did McGee…?" Ziva questioned, looking from Gibbs to McGee and back.

Gibbs interrupted with a knowing look. "I would imagine he was contacted by Roo-bee."

Tony and Ziva both turned to face the younger man. McGee blushed at their scrutiny and shifted slightly under the weight of his bag.

"What?" he asked, as if he didn't already know the answer. "We've kept in touch. I've been encouraging her," he explained.

"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?" Ziva teased, causing Tony to chuckle and Gibbs to smirk. McGee rolled his eyes and tried to keep the blush from further darkening his cheeks.

"It's something friends do, Ziva. Friends," he emphasized.

"Sure, Probie," Tony said, pounding him on the back as they stepped off the elevator.

"Where's Ducky?" Ziva asked, looking around as she followed the others to the vehicle.

"Already on his way," Gibbs said shortly. "Called him first."

---

Sheriff Tom Barrett walked out to meet the team upon their arrival at the crime scene in Edenvale. Gibbs was pleased to see that they had been contacted in time enough to actually work the scene this time, as opposed to their last run-in with the locals.

"Agent Gibbs," Sheriff Barrett greeted, "I can't say it's a pleasure to see you again, under the circumstances."

Gibbs met his eyes, clearly asserting his authority. "Thanks for the quick call," he conceded. "What do we got so far?"

"We got a call early this morning from Wayne Packard. He works down to the local hardware store," Sheriff Barrett explained. Catching Gibbs' impatient look, he continued, "Said he saw something unusual down here. Said we outta come check it out. As soon as Ruby saw they was Marines, she told me to call you. Then y'all high-tailed it down here. You'll get more information from your man, Ducky," he pointed toward the location where Ducky and Palmer were examining the bodies.

Without a word, Gibbs briskly walked to the edge of the river where his medical examiner and assistant were laboring over the bodies of the marines. He tossed a half-smile at Ruby, who was photographing the scene. She stopped and gave him a cheerful wave.

"McGee, bag and tag. Tony, sketch. Ziva, interview Wayne Packard." Gibbs motioned to the left, where Sheriff Barrett was speaking with an older grey-haired man.

Gibbs leaned closer to the older man next to him. "What do we got, Duck?"

"Our two victims each sustained three gunshot wounds; one to the head and two to the chest. Liver temperatures suggest they expired some time around midnight last night. Of course, I cannot tell anything for certain until I get them on the table," Dr. Mallard explained, looking around the scene. "Now where did that 'man' go?"

"Beg your pardon?" Gibbs looked at his friend in confusion.

"Oh, I forgot you haven't had the pleasure," Ducky said sarcastically. "Harry Lawson. The town's coroner. He was at the scene when Mr. Palmer and I arrived, just before you. I thought I saw him near the coffee lady."

"Coffee lady?" Gibbs questioned, sure that he'd heard the other man incorrectly.

"Oh, sorry again." He paused a moment and continued perusing the area. His eyes lifted in recognition when he spied the object of his interest. "Over there. Her name is Marge."

Gibbs turned and saw a sight he had never before seen at a crime scene in his many years of investigation. A beautiful blonde woman, who looked liked she had walked straight out of a 1950's television program, was canvassing the edge of the cordoned off area and serving coffee to the men and women who had responded to the crime scene.

"You gotta be kiddin' me," Gibbs said, with a combination of frustration and amusement.

"It's excellent coffee, actually, Jethro."

Gibbs turned a speculative gaze to his medical examiner, cocking an eyebrow at the tell-tale foam cup resting next to his tools. Ducky shrugged, unrepentant.

"Only in Edenvale," Gibbs muttered.

---

"Both victims were shot with the same weapon," Ruby began to explain to the team gathered together at the Sheriff's station in downtown Edenvale; such as it were. "From the tests I ran on the slugs, it appears the gun was a .45 caliber weapon. Striations on the slugs imply there was a lot of wear on the barrel," she paused and attempted to push past the unsure expressions on the faces of the team. After a few moments, she continued, her cheeks tinged pink, "Agent McGee sent samples of everything back to Abby at NCIS, so you can get confirmation. You don't have to take my word for it." She turned her back to the room and walked out.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows in surprise, his esteem of the young girl coming up a few notches. He knew the team had a tendency to jump to conclusions as to the competency of others based certain stereotypical ideals. He also remembered the lesson they learned the last time they under estimated Ms. Ruby Rae.

"McGee!" Gibbs ordered, nodding toward the door. "Go get her."

McGee nodded his assent and left on the heels of the young lady. Unfortunately, she had a bit more of a head start that he realized, and he didn't know this town like she did. He exited the building in time to see her car speeding away from the courthouse. He headed back in to give Gibbs the bad news, shoulders slumped in defeat.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: No, "pinken" is not a word. It's totally made up. But the way I see it, all words are made up words. (Thank you, Abby!) I'm writing a story with McGee and Ruby; you can't blame me for running out of ways to describe blushing!

---

**Chapter 2**

"How'd you find me, Agent McGee?" Ruby asked as she took another sip of her cherry cola.

Agent McGee slid into the booth directly across from her and smiled. "One of the ladies at the station mentioned you like to come here for lunch."

"I guess I made a pretty big fool of myself earlier," she said, her cheeks beginning to pinken with embarrassment.

"Not at all. If you hadn't run off so fast, I would have told you earlier."

Ruby smiled and met his eyes. "Are you serious? Agent Gibbs isn't a very trusting person."

"No, he's not. But you've shown him once that your technique isn't sloppy. He was listening to you."

"So I overreacted."

McGee smiled, "You could say that."

Ruby tore her eyes away from his handsome face with another blush. She knew Agent McGee would never be interested in a small town girl like her. She had almost no knowledge of how things worked in his world. Hers was tied to this town, and probably always would be. She let her imagination wander as she dipped a French fry into her ketchup and took a bite. She pulled her thoughts back into check as she reminded herself that nothing more than friendship would be feasible for them. Now if she could just stop staring…

"What kind of place is this?" McGee asked, looking around the room in curiosity.

Ruby chuckled in response. "This is Marge's. The front area is a restaurant and the back area is bar. She actually lives in the house across the street, just down that winding dirt path." Ruby smiled as she took a brief trip down memory lane. "I always used to think she was my aunt when I was a kid, but she's just that nice to everyone that will let her."

"That's the lady from the crime scene," McGee said when he caught site of the blonde lady with the huge smile standing behind the main counter.

"Yep. For as long as I can remember, every time there's a crisis in town Marge is there for support. She brings water, coffee, cookies, and sandwiches – whatever is needed. She's really the heart of our community."

"That's nice," he said sincerely. He grew up in a city much smaller than DC, but it was nowhere near as small as this place. It was like visiting a foreign land, or traveling into a scene in a movie he had once seen.

"Did you want to order something?" Ruby said, waving to get the attention of one of the young waitresses.

"Oh, that's okay, I…" He stopped when he realized the waitress was already approaching their table.

Ruby's face flamed to match her hair at the knowing expression on the girl's face.

"Who's the hottie, Ruby?" the younger lady asked, clearly teasing Ruby.

Ruby gave her a reprimanding look and tried unsuccessfully to squelch the blush from her cheeks. "This is NCIS Special Agent McGee."

"Special Agent," the waitress said flirtatiously as she smiled prettily and turned her full attention to McGee. "What can I do for you?"

McGee swallowed. "Umm… Coffee," he said quickly.

"That's all? Just coffee," she asked, leaning forward slightly to display her ample cleavage at its best.

Ruby rolled her eyes and took another drink of her cherry cola. Sarah Baldwin had always been flirtatious. Although she was years older than the waitress, Sarah had always made her feel inferior. She supposed some things might never change.

"He said coffee," Ruby said aloud, trying to keep the irritation from showing in her voice.

"Right," Sarah replied, giving her McGee her naughtiest look. "If you get bored later, look me up. I'm here most evenings," she gave him a wink and flounced off to get him some coffee.

"Don't you need to eat lunch?"

McGee blushed lightly, embarrassed to have been caught off-guard. "Well, I suppose but we should probably hurry back before Gibbs…" he began, but was interrupted by the flurry that was Marge.

"Ruby! Why didn't you tell me one of our visitors was here with you?" she turned to face McGee, her face alight with excitement. "I'm Marge." She shook his hand, her smile and enthusiasm proving contagious.

McGee smiled back warmly, "Special Agent Timothy McGee, ma'am," he greeted her. "But you can call me Tim or McGee, whichever you prefer."

She grinned. "What I'll call you is pale. You look like you haven't eaten in two days. Let me take care of that for you, honey. Now you just sit back and let Marge make you comfortable, 'kay?"

McGee couldn't help but be charmed by the woman's cheerful nature and hospitality. He watched as she moved quickly into the kitchen, stopping to give a smile or greeting to most everyone along the way. She soon returned with fresh coffee, a chicken salad sandwich and a piece of cherry pie.

"Now you just eat that, and if you want anything else just give me a holler. It's on the house."

She disappeared before he could protest. McGee lifted the sandwich and took a tentative bite, hoping it tasted as good as it looked.

"Wow," was his only response.

Ruby watched with amusement as the sandwich disappeared in mere seconds. McGee's eyebrows hiked even further as he chased the sandwich with a long sip of coffee.

"This is incredible," he continued, very surprised that the fare provided in this small town was better than anything he had discovered in the city.

Ruby chuckled at his enthusiasm. "Wait until you try the dessert." Her tone promised he would not be disappointed.

---

"Where's McGee?" Gibbs asked impatiently, looking again toward the door.

"You sent him after Ruby," Sheriff Barrett answered, stating the obvious.

Gibbs gave him a look that should have made him question his intelligence. Whether or not Sheriff Barrett took understood was unknown to Gibbs. But it did shut the man up.

The door opened and McGee and Ruby entered, matching sheepish expressions on their faces.

"Sorry, Boss," McGee began, and then immediately stopped speaking and swallowed. He had definitely angered Gibbs this time.

"Don't apologize, McGee. You've already wasted time; get to work."

Just as the team was getting back to work, the door opened again and Mildred, Tom's secretary, stuck her purple-tinted head in the door. "Sheriff Barrett?"

"Yes, Mildred?" he asked.

"There's an Abby Scuito from NCIS on the phone. She said the direct line wasn't working?"

"Send her through," Gibbs said, and then turned to the room in general. "How do you put this thing on speaker?"

---

"Hello everyone! I trust Edenvale is treating you well?" Abby greeted everyone cheerfully.

"We miss you too, Abs, but is this why you called?" Gibbs asked brusquely.

"I'm getting there, oh impatient one," she said, just as perkily as before. "Ruby was correct in her initial report. The weapon was definitely a .45 caliber. A Colt .45 semiautomatic handgun, most likely military issue. The striations on the slug indicate the barrel had significant wear."

"Great," Gibbs muttered.

"I know. The weapon could easily have been sold off as surplus thirty or forty years ago. I was able to determine from DNA left at the crime scene that our killer was working alone, and isn't in any of the databases I can access legally."

"Can't we just get a list of all registered Colt .45s in the county and go from there?" Tony asked.

Sheriff Barrett chuckled, "This is Edenvale, son. Everyone's a gun owner. If I had a dollar for every Colt .45 you could find in this town I could retire."

"Sorry I can't help any more, but I'll keep working!" Abby said, slightly less cheerfully as she disconnected the line.

"We could ask Ol' Red," Ruby suggested.

"Ornery son-of-a-gun," Barrett muttered, and then sighed as he shoved his hat back on. "Good thinking, Ruby."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The living room of the old grey country house seemed crowded with only Pat "Red" Peters and his three hound dogs. Add four NCIS special agents, the local sheriff and one of his most trusted deputies, and it was near to bursting at the seams. Or the floor joists, in this particular case.

"Well, why didn't you bring in the whole town, Tommy?" Mr. Peters began, a twinkle in his eye.

Gibbs smiled as he watched the man quickly intimidate the sheriff. The old man's eyes held untold secrets, many years of experience and a keen wit that couldn't be faked. Gibbs instantly felt an affinity for the man, but still didn't expect this interview to shed much light on the investigation.

"Now, I'm assuming I owe the pleasure of this visit to the unpleasantness with them two marines earlier this week. 'S'that right?"

"Good guess," Gibbs answered. "The sheriff and Ms. Ruby Rae thought you might be able to provide some information as to who in town might own Colt .45s that were originally military issue."

Red smiled. He loved to talk, that was true. But talking about firearms was something he could do all day long. "Straight to the point. I like that," he replied. "You know, so many people hem and haw around a subject, like they's afraid to get their feet wet. A man don't live to be my age without learnin' the value of being direct."

Tony smirked and tried to hide his amusement. 'Ol Red had clearly lost the meaning of "straight to the point" some time ago. Catching Gibbs' parental glare, he schooled his features and focused on the interview.

"Here in Edenvale, 'bout everyone owns guns. I was a cop back in the 60s, and went on to teach and train in marksmanship at the local station and at the range. I expect 'bout every kid in this town that's learned to shoot has come through me at some point. Now the Colt .45; that's a might nice weapon. As you probably know, gads of 'em was sold off in surplus back in the 60s. I expect near ever family that could afford one picked one up at that time. Some's come and gone, of course. Heck, our local gun and pawn shop probably has two of 'em." He paused and rocked back and forth in his chair for a moment, apparently deep in thought. "Yeah, I reckon I can help ya."

The man had more stories than Ducky, and was about half-addled to boot. But nonetheless, forty minutes later the team was armed, for lack of a better term, with more information on the gun-toting habits and customs of the residents of Edenvale than they would ever need. They also left with a comprehensive list of the names of "folks who still outta have one o' them guns".

---

"That will go down in history as the strangest interview I have ever been part of," Tony said, rolling his shoulders and exhaling loudly.

Ziva chuckled. "He was an interesting man. But it was fortuitous."

"I guess," Tony conceded.

"You have to admit," McGee added. "He knows his stuff."

Gibbs voice broke in, "I want every firearm on this list checked and double checked. We need to convince these people to hand over their weapons to be tested, if possible. If someone isn't willing, test for gunshot residue or any clue that might tell us if the weapon was recently fired before you leave the premises. This is our best bet, people."

"It's our only bet," Tony said under his breath.

"What was that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked gruffly.

"Nothing, Boss," Tony replied sheepishly.

"I didn't think so," Gibbs said, giving him a token whack on the back of the head.

---

The team had split the list into three equal parts. Each weapon was being checked out by one of three teams: Gibbs and Barrett, Ziva and McGee, and Tony and one of the sheriff's deputies.

McGee was beginning to regret being paired with Ziva.

"Can you watch your speed, Ziva? The speed limit is 35 miles per hour. This isn't the city," McGee said, securing his grip on the handle on the inside of the door and trying his best to hide any discomfort from his teammate.

Ziva snorted in response, "That is certainly true." She glanced at the nervous man sitting next to her out of the corner of her eye and smirked, reducing her speed. "Happy now?"

"Definitely an improvement." McGee visibly relaxed now that she was only going fifteen miles over the speed limit.

"So, you and Ruby seem to be getting closer," Ziva said nonchalantly.

McGee blushed. "I'm just trying to help her."

"You mentioned that. How far are you willing to go to provide 'help'?"

"Ziva!" McGee protested. "It's not like that. She's a nice girl."

"Mm-hmm." Ziva gave him another look out of the corner of her eye, this one a challenge of sorts. "You would prefer a naughty girl, McGee?" she asked flirtatiously.

McGee swallowed and averted his eyes, focusing on a speck on the corner of the windshield. He struggled to keep his breathing even and began grasping for something to say in response.

Taking pleasure in his discomfort, Ziva began to giggle. "Relax, McGee. It's not like I'm going to take you somewhere and have my way with you. Unless that's what you want." She gave him a wicked look.

"Of course, not," he began unconvincingly, when he noticed a large dog about to run out into the road in front of them. "Ziva! Watch the road," McGee shouted, his hand automatically reaching out to brace himself for impact.

A couple of sharp turns later and Ziva tossed a triumphant glance to her coworker. "You underestimated my abilities."

"It won't happen again," he promised.

She smiled. Agent McGee was definitely learning the ropes.

Ziva was starting to wonder what was actually going on between McGee and Ruby. Part of her hoped it was exactly as he insisted, but she would never tell him that. The larger part of her was fairly certain he was only protesting too much. She sighed and tried to turn her thoughts back to the case, grateful that McGee couldn't read her mind. She sneaked another glance and rested assured; the man was clueless.

---

"Just put everything in here, Marge. They're out investigatin'. You know how it goes," Mildred said as she opened the door to the room the team had been using as a headquarters.

"Thanks, Mildred," Marge said with a smile as she caught the door with her back and pushed her way into the room, her arms full with a large cooler of food.

"Might I be of assistance?" a polite, accented voice asked, startling her slightly.

"Well, I didn't even see you there."

"So I surmised," Ducky said, as he helped her with her burden.

"Why thank you," she said, giving him a bright smile that made his heart race and his breath catch.

"You're quite welcome. You brought coffee to the crime scene this morning."

"Guilty," she admitted. "I'm Marge Collins."

"We met this morning. I'm Dr. Donald Mallard, Ducky to my friends."

"You've gotta be kiddin' me?!" Marge exclaimed, amused. "What kind of woman with the last name Mallard names her son Donald?"

"Ah," Ducky smiled. "You've hit on the question I have most asked my mother over the years. The absurdity seems never to have occurred to her, I'm afraid. I was teased horribly, as you can imagine."

"Well, you seem to have turned out okay," Marge said with a wink. "Donald Duck," she added, making a clucking sound with her tongue and shaking her head. "Let Tom know dinner's on the house. Stop in tonight or at least sometime before ya leave town. Good luck," she added as she rushed out of the room.

Ducky smiled. Stop in where? He had no idea, but he definitely wanted to go.

---

It was after nine o'clock when the team wrapped up for the evening. After comparing results and sending several surrendered firearms for Ruby to test against the slugs, it was determined that none of the guns on the list were the desired murder weapon.

Abby and Ruby had each been working diligently to find another way to ascertain the identity of the killer. With Ducky's expertise, they had drawn up a profile of the man they were looking for, but still had no idea where to go next.

"Let's get out of here. Meet back tomorrow morning. Maybe we'll have a fresh perspective on things," Gibbs suggested.

"Buy you a drink?" Barrett suggested. "It's Friday night. I expect half the town will be down to Marge's."

Gibbs took a breath to decline when he caught the look of interest in Ducky's expression. He turned to each of the members of his team in turn, and found the same look in each face.

"A drink it is," he replied as they left the station.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Marge's bar was already bustling when the crew from the station made their appearance. Even the restaurant side of the place was full, as people would get their drinks and look for a place to sit.

Marge crossed the room to greet the newcomers.

"It's about time you brought these people over here, Tommy Barrett," she scolded, as she ushered them inside. She smiled and nodded to each in turn. "Well, if it isn't Donald Duck!" she winked at Dr. Mallard, who seemed to be positively glowing from her attention.

Gibbs smiled knowingly. Ducky wasn't young, but he wasn't dead either. And Marge was a very nice-looking lady. He gave his older friend a pat on the back as he moved past him toward the bar.

"None of my guests are to pay for anything tonight," Marge called out the bartender.

"That is very kind of you, but I…" Ducky began.

"No buts," she interrupted him, smiling brightly. "Now why don't you come over here and sit with me."

"I would be delighted," he accepted graciously.

Tony watched as the blonde lady led the medical examiner to a seat at the end of the bar next to hers. He shook his head in amazement.

"What?" Gibbs asked him.

"He seemed a little eager to come here tonight, but I never expected him to be hooking up in Edenvale," Tony replied with a mixture of amazement and amusement.

"Don't underestimate the Duckman," Gibbs said with a smirk.

"Ducky can be quite charming," Ziva added with a quiet smile.

Tony stared at her incredulously. "Ducky?"

"Of course. If you think attraction to the opposite sex is all about hard bodies and pick up lines, you have a lot more to learn about women, Tony."

Tony chuckled. "I know more about women than…" he trailed off, unsure of how to end his boasting. He looked at Gibbs – no, he'd been married too many times. "…McGee".

McGee blushed and laughed, "Now there's a surprise," he said sarcastically. "I never claimed to know more about women that you do. I certainly haven't _known_ as many women as you."

"And you probably never will, Probie," Tony said, resting a hand on the younger agent's shoulder. "But enough of the hero worship, let's get a drink."

---

Ruby rolled her eyes as Tony led Ziva and McGee to the bar. She sincerely doubted DiNozzo was McGee's hero, but she was sure _he_ saw it that way. He seemed very arrogant to her, and not at all like the kind of guy she would want to take home to her mother. She blushed as it dawned on her that most women didn't look at men and imagine taking them home to their parents. She took a second look at the agent and realized that, strictly speaking, he _was_ physically attractive. But Agent DiNozzo definitely wasn't her type.

But, she realized sadly, Agent McGee could never be hers. He lived too far away. She wasn't ready to turn life upside down for any man. She sighed heavily. She wasn't a one night stand kind of girl. But that didn't keep her from hoping.

She stood alone and watched as they crowded around the bar together, teasing and chatting. Wait! Did Officer David just put her hand on Agent McGee's backside? Now sitting at a table by herself, she craned her neck to get a better view. She noticed McGee blush as he made eye contact with the Israeli woman. Agent DiNozzo remained oblivious. She made up her mind to get stinking drunk after the case was solved and NCIS had left.

Her mood plummeted even further as she continued to watch the NCIS crew. As different as they were, they were clearly a close-knit team. She envied the friendship she could see between them. Most of her friends from school had moved away. The only girls who had stayed in Edenvale were those who had always looked down on her. Wallowing in self-pity wasn't her normal style, but she could recognize the symptoms. Realizing that what she probably needed was a good cry, she dug some change out of her purse. This upbeat music was doing nothing for her.

---

McGee crossed the room to the table where Ruby had been sitting, a cold bottle of beer in each hand; but she wasn't there. Glancing into the bench, he saw her bag. He spun around and saw her making her way back to the table from the jukebox, eyes on her feet. She nearly walked right into him.

"Agent McGee! I'm so sorry, I was…"

"Don't worry about it," he smiled. "Buy you a drink?" He raised one of the bottles toward her.

She blushed. "I don't really like beer. And I have to work tomorrow."

"Umm… okay," McGee stammered. He stood there awkwardly, hoping she would invite him to sit. After a few moments of intense silence, he continued. "May I join you?"

"Oh!" she seemed surprised that he wanted to. "Sure, I guess."

"Ruby, what's wrong?" he asked, after sliding in to the seat across from her.

"Nothing," she lied.

"Truth be told, I don't care much for beer either," he confessed conspiratorially, hoping to bring her back to the teasing Ruby he had spent the day with.

She shrugged and tried her best not to respond to him. She refused to allow herself to look into his gorgeous green eyes, or think about how perfect he was. Such thoughts were frivolous and would only make her feel even worse when he left – with his gorgeous Israeli friend.

---

Ziva watched as McGee worked his magic on Ruby Rae. It was funny how much they all underestimated him at times. When he first joined her, it was apparent that Ruby was in a very poor mood. At first she seemed not even to respond to him. But now, Ziva could see the sparkle had returned to the girl's eyes and she was laughing and talking with McGee. He really was an incredible man; she couldn't blame the girl for being infatuated with him.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a slow, sad ballad playing from the jukebox in the corner.

Tony groaned, "Who's big idea was this?"

"What's the matter, Tony? Is the music getting under your scalp?" Ziva teased him, pushing away her own melancholy mood.

"It's skin, Zee-vah," he corrected.

She smirked. "So it is."

"No, the music is not getting under my skin. I can barely abide this town and now I'm being forced to listen to bad music."

"Patsy Cline is not bad music, Tony." Ziva scolded him.

"I guess not," he reluctantly admitted, "but if I have to listen to one more word about…"

He was unable to finish his sentence as a shot rang out and the jukebox uttered its last, dying moan.

"Wow, how did that happen?"

"How did that happen?! That _man_ just shot a hole in the jukebox," Ziva answered.

"No, I know that," Tony continued. "I was wondering how I got my wish."

---

"Bubba Conroy, what in the world do you think you're doing firing a weapon in my place?" Marge began, ready to diffuse the situation.

Gibbs crossed the room toward the weeping man, his weapon drawn. "Colt .45," he said, almost to himself.

At Gibbs' interest, the rest of the team noticed what he had already seen, and began closing in on the man.

"Bubba, just put that weapon down before you hurt somebody," Marge said, as she reached out and took the weapon from his hand with no fear. She turned to Gibbs. "Bubba wouldn't hurt a fly, normally. But he's been kind of sensitive lately, is all," she explained. "Colby, get Sheriff Barrett back down here," she called out to the young man tending bar.

"Where is Barrett? I thought he was here," Tony asked.

Marge snickered. "Honey, that man's on a leash. His woman has to have him home by ten. He sneaked out right after he brought y'all in."

Sheriff Barrett came rushing in, wearing only his bathrobe and a pair of fuzzy slippers. At everyone's curious glances, he remarked, "When Agent Gibbs says hurry; you hurry."

"McGee!" Gibbs barked. "You and Ruby take that gun down to the station and test it. I think we may have finally located our murder weapon."

"Murder? It was just a jukebox!" Bubba complained as Sheriff Barrett, who had just arrived in his bathrobe, began to handcuff him and place him under arrest.

"No, Bubba, you aren't under arrest for murder." He gave Agent Gibbs a confident look. "Bubba didn't kill no soldier. His brother was just killed in IRAQ. He wouldn't do that." Still, he secured the handcuffs tightly around Bubba's wrists.

"Then what's the charge?" Bubba asked, not understanding.

"Don't play dumb with us, son," Barrett said with the shake of his head. "Reckless discharge of a gun…"

"Reckless!" Bubba interrupted. "But I hit just where I was aimin'!"

Gibbs smirked. "He's got a point, Barrett. I think if Bubba could tell us where he got the gun, we could consider it justifiable homicide."

"That's easy," Bubba answered. "I won it last night in a game of poker down at Jim's."

"Who from?" Barrett asked, tightening his grip just enough to let Bubba know he was serious.

"That new fella, Paul sumtin' or other."

"Paul Satterly?" Barrett asked.

Bubba's face broke into a smile. "Yeah, that's it. That's his name."

Sheriff Barrett nodded to Gibbs and released Bubba. "You're free to go, Conroy. Try to keep it under control."

"Yes sir," Bubba said, grabbing his ball cap and shoving it back on his head.

After getting Satterly's address from Barrett, Gibbs, Tony and Ziva all headed out to apprehend him. Barrett nodded to Marge, and then ducked out the back.

Ducky knelt on the floor, examining the body. "Wurlitzer," he said softly, "nice model. It appears the bullet passed through a speaker and several albums, before lodging itself in the motor. I'm afraid the dear girl is going to need to be replaced."

Marge chuckled at his mock-seriousness. "I've had my eye on a new one. Plays CDs. Elvis Presley Limited Edition."

"Are you sure you didn't set this up so you could buy a new jukebox?" he questioned.

She smiled. "Are you going to take me in for questioning?" she asked suggestively.

He chuckled. "Well, I'm no agent, but I think I could coax a confession out of you."

---

THE END


End file.
